


Sitting Here

by insufferableknowitall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 22:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insufferableknowitall/pseuds/insufferableknowitall
Summary: It’s the night before the seven-Potter plan to retrieve Harry from the Dursley’s, and Ron Weasley can’t sleep. How could he, when everything is about the change? Lucky for him, the one person in the world who is able to calm him down, also can’t sleep.





	Sitting Here

**Author's Note:**

> WRITTEN FOR ROMIONE FLUFF FEST 2019
> 
> Prompt: The Burrow, middle of the night

It was the middle of the night and Ron Weasley could not sleep. 

How was he expected to? It was the night before everything was going to change. In less than twenty-four hours, he’d be flying on a broom disguised as his best friend. Seven of them would be disguised as it best friend. And despite reassurance from all the members of the Order, Ron thought the plan was absolutely barmy. 

Of course, he wouldn’t dare say that aloud, and especially not in front of Hermione. Every second word from her mouth over the past few weeks had been laced with worry and doubt. “What if something happens to us?” “Oh, you know that Harry is going to absolutely hate this plan.” Ron tried his best to reassure her, but that was proving rather difficult, because 1) It was Hermione Granger, the queen of worrying, and 2) He was starting to doubt the plan himself. 

Ron knew that he needed sleep. His body was practically begging for it - he had spent the entire day bidding his mother’s housework, and then was persuaded into a Quidditch match with his brothers and Ginny in attempt to distract themselves from worry. He had even enjoyed some of the chores during the day – along with Ginny, he taught Hermione how to de-gnome a garden, which resulted in the Weasley siblings laughing hysterically, mostly at Hermione’s offense. 

Hermione. His chest warmed as he thought of her, the way she tried to keep her expression stern while he and Ginny were laughing, the way she tripped and stumbled into his arms after one of the gnomes nearly bit her finger off. Ron had been savoring the past few weeks. He knew that once Harry arrived, everything would be different. Not that he didn’t want Harry to arrive - he knew that the wizarding world was breaking at the seams, and they had a job to do - but the hours he’d gotten to spend with Hermione, alone, had felt sacred. And soon, they’d be gone.

“Ron?” He almost thought he was imagining the sound of his name, but then Hermione’s voice squeaked again. “Ron?” Slowly, she nudged his bedroom door open. “I can’t stop worrying about tomorrow,” she whispered, her voice barely loud enough for Ron to hear. 

He was worried too. But he knew if he admitted that to her, it would only make her worry increase exponentially, so instead he sat up and patted the spot next to him on his bed. “C'mere.”

Her eyes were damp, just barely, and her hair stuck up in more directions than usual, likely due to sleepless tossing and turning. She sat cross-legged on his bed, her skin just inches away from his, and then pulled her knees to her chest. 

“Were you asleep?” she asked. 

“Nah.”

“Are you worried too?”

Ron didn’t want to lie to her, so he simply shrugged, and tried his best to smile at her without giving himself away. “’M alright.”

Hermione sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bother anyone, it’s just, you’re the only one who…who can calm me down.” Even in the dark, Ron could see her cheeks turn pink. He scooted towards her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, trying to ignore the burning feeling in his ears. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he told her, and he meant it. He meant it with every ounce of his being, because if there was one thing he could say for sure, it was that he would make sure things were okay. For her. 

Hermione shook her head and sniffed. “I don’t mean just tomorrow. I mean…everything. Even if tomorrow goes to plan, what happens next? With…with the horcruxes, and V-Voldemort – oh, don’t wince every time I say his name, Ronald– and even if Harry defeats him, what…what about my parents? What if I made a mistake?” 

Hermione began crying in earnest, though she tried her best to wipes the tears with the hem of her shirt. “Here,” Ron said, grabbing an unfolded shirt off the ground and handing it to her, “Use this. It’s clean.”

She stared at him for a moment, something in her eyes that Ron had never noticed before – was it affection? He couldn’t tell – and then she took the shirt from his hands and used it to dry her eyes. “You should really invest in a handkerchief. Or at least some tissue.”

“Only you would find a way to chastise me while I’m comforting you,” Ron smirked. Hermione giggled in response, and Ron added, “You know, I’m sure I’ve got a handkerchief somewhere. Just gotta dig it out of my mess. I’ll find it, just for you.” He squeezed her shoulders and winked at her (which surprised even him), and she shook her head and smiled, then leaned against his shoulder. He was glad she couldn’t see how red his cheeks had turned. 

“I wish we could just stay here,” she whispered. He wasn’t sure wheether she meant here as in the Burrow, or here as in with him, in his room in the middle of the night, but either way he replied, “Me too.”

“It’s all going to change after tomorrow, isn’t it?” she whispered. 

“Probably,” he said. He turned towards her and took her hands in his. “But I’ll tell you what. I promise you, if I make it out of this madness, we can stay here all we want. We won’t have to be anywhere, or do anything, and you can come in here and sit with me like this. Er, I mean, you know. If you want to.” Silently, he cursed his burning cheeks. 

She squeezed his hands and smiled, then suddenly, her smile turned to a frown. “What do you mean if youmake it out?”

He grimaced. “Well, you know…you’re better at magic and stuff than me, and if anything happens, I’ll…you’re more…more important, right?”

Her frown turned into a glare. “Don’t you dare say you’ll sacrifice yourself for me in this war, Ronald Weasley.”

“Erm – ”

“How would you feel if I said I’d sacrifice myself for you?”

“That’s not the same!”

“It’s exactly the same! And you know it!”

They glared at one another for a few very long seconds, and then Hermione flung her arms around Ron’s neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “Nothing will happen to either of us,” she whispered, although her voice shook with worry and Ron knew better, “We’ll get Harry tomorrow – even though I think the plan is absolutely ridiculous, it’s really not safe, and – ”

“Your point?”

“Right. And…and we’ll make it out of this war, with Harry too, and then we’ll come right back here and everything will be okay.”

Ron wanted to believe it. He needed to believe it. “The first step in all that is probably to get some sleep,” he whispered. 

She laughed and released him from her hug. “I’ll get you some tea,” he said quickly, because he was afraid of what would happen if he sat there, looking into her eyes, any longer. He was afraid that he might kiss her, and if he kissed her, then he could throw out all hope of being any use during the war. He was already hopelessly distracted. 

By the time he came back to his room with a piping hot cup of tea, Hermione had already fallen asleep, curled up on his bed. He pulled a blanket over her and climbed into the camp bed that had been waiting for Harry. He fell asleep to the sound of Hermione’s quiet breathing. It was the only thing that could calm him down. 

Several months later:

It was the middle of the night when the Weasley family finally returned home. The house was empty and quiet, yet loud with grief. Around every corner was a memory of someone they lost in the battle. Slowly, members of the household dispersed – George walked straight to his room, like a zombie. Percy paced in the kitchen, trying to put together something to eat. Arthur took Molly by the arm and led her upstairs. Their sobs echoed through the thin walls. After hours of talking, eating, and crying, Ginny bid Harry, Ron, and Hermione goodnight. The three friends hadn’t left one another’s side since the battle. They shared a bond that nobody else could understand. 

Harry fell asleep instantly – he had already slept in the Gryffindor Common Room the day before, but that had been no cure to the exhaustion that had accumulated from months on the run. Ron and Hermione sat, late in the middle of the night, listening to Harry’s snores from the camp bed. “Don’t know how we survived eight months in a tent with this,” Ron whispered. 

“I don’t know how you shared a room with him for six years,” Hermione whispered back, and they tried their best to stifle their giggles. 

Hermione snuggled into Ron’s chest and closed her eyes. He buried his face in her hair and let her curls tickle his nose. “I told you we’d come back here,” he whispered into her ear. 

“Hmm?”

“That night, before we went and got Harry. I told you, after it all, we’d come back here and just sit for as long as you want.”

“Are you trying to turn this into an I-told-you-somoment?”

Ron smirked. “I can’t let you have all of them.”

“Well…can we do more than just sitting? Here?”

Ron didn’t even care how red his face had turned. He kissed her on the lips, and then added, “Maybe when Harry isn’t snoring below us.”

She laughed and kissed him again. “We’re okay,” she whispered, the statement still unfamiliar after the horrors of the last months. 

“We are,” he said, “And we will be.” And he meant it.


End file.
